


Ray

by Brighid



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-09
Updated: 2012-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-11 18:59:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brighid/pseuds/Brighid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ray</p>
<p>Definition: Mathematics. A straight line extending from a point.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Destina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destina/gifts), [Speranza](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Speranza/gifts), [Beth H (bethbethbeth)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethbethbeth/gifts).



> It's a little brain-bendy.

Ray

Definition: Mathematics. A straight line extending from a point.

Bad day. Bad _mother_ fucking day but it's okay, he's home and he's breathing and it's just a bullet crease along the inside of his arm. Coulda been worse, shoulda been worse, except for the Mountie dogging his heels like a faithful … well, wolf.

Ray turns at the door, his mouth already half-open in invitation, "Hey, you want…" and all of a sudden Fraser is _right_ in his space. Not so unusual, that, but what is unusual is the warm weight of Fraser's lips on his cheek, just at the corner of his mouth, sliding wetly, softly, moving into a full-on kiss. Fraser's mouth is hot over his, the touch of it just a bit uncertain, just a little hesitant, and Ray, his heart is in his throat, right beside a "What the fuck?" and he's all blind panic, feels his fingers clutching worn leather, feels them digging into its buttery softness, and everything is whirly robot arms, Danger Ray Kowalski, Danger! And he's just gotta break away, now, because ain't no way in hell he signed on for this. Just grab Fraser hard, let his fingers bite in and tear his mouth away and ask his partner just what the _fuck_ he thinks he's doing?

***  
Ray turns, but Fraser ain't there, ain't been there since … since …and he swears viciously, wants to kick the garbage can but the perp'll hear him and he just hopes to God the Duck Boys are on it because he's not into playing Butch without Sundance.

But that's what he's been doing ever since…

And _god_ damn you, Benton Fraser, anyhow.

One minute a guy's kissing you until you think your eyeballs are gonna pop and the next thing he's hightailing it back to the Northern Areas like his ass is on fire and only sitting in Yukon snow is gonna put it out. Just a note, all hem and haw and very sorry, Ray, and he's gone and there's no phone, not wherever the hell Benton Fraser's hiding.

Ray swears again, prays to a God he's not even sure is there, never mind listening, that Jack and Dewey can find their collective asses and save his, because this time there's no Mountie waiting in the wings.

Ray's on his own.

***

Fraser kisses wet, sloppy, really dirty. Ray had never expected that. The one or two times he'd let his brain go there he'd always pictured it …neat. Contained. Precise. Maybe a little dry. Because while Fraser, God knows, is passionate, it's mostly all wrapped up tight and only comes out in snark and the odd conversation with the wolf. But there's nothing contained or restrained or precise about this, with Fraser mouthing along his throat, biting, growling his name. 

He thinks, maybe I can go with this. Maybe, just this once. His body surges, throbs hungrily, and it's been a long, long time and it's not like this is entirely one-sided; it's just generally a bad idea but it's not one-sided. And Ray, he's damn near made a _career_ out of bad ideas. He twists his head, finds Fraser's mouth, kisses him hard, thinks: just once. Just once and we can sort this all out in the morning.

***

"So, dinner, Frase?" he asks casually, reaching for his jacket, but Fraser's all ready standing, moving away, a grumbling Dief beside him.

"I'm afraid I have tasks to attend to," Fraser replies politely, a small, tight smile on his face and nowhere near his eyes. Dief makes a loud noise, sounds sorta like "Liar!" and Ray is believing the wolf over his partner because … because it's been like this ever since the morning after. 

Messed up.

It'd had been good, in the first few minutes, waking up, seeing Fraser looking down on him, soft and open and drawing slow, soft circles down his belly. A smile, a kiss and then he'd opened up his goddamned mouth and tried to be reasonable.

And Fraser had just … closed off. Gone away somewhere deep inside and he hadn't come out again, not once. He was a perfect partner. He was a top cop. He was everything Ray could hope for. 

Except his best friend.

And worst of all, every goddamned morning since he'd woken up looking for _that_ Fraser, the one he'd woken to that one time, and he was …

Gone. Even though Ray could feel him, everywhere, all over. Smell him in the pillowcases, taste him on his lips, feel him moving through his body. That was just a … ghost.

And it haunted Ray, every _fucking_ day.

He watched Fraser leave. Leaving. Always leaving.

And sighed.

***

A low, animal noise but Dief is back home, at Fraser's, just the two of them, and Ray realizes it's coming from him, and he wants to laugh but he hasn't got the breath, hardly got any air at all. Fraser's got his hands on Ray's ass, pulling them hard together and there's a world of wanting between them, and. Damn. How long? How fucking long has he been looking to the left of this, not seeing it, pretending the elephant wasn't in the bedroom, after all.

His own hands are sliding up under the jacket, under the Henley, finding warm skin, feeling the throb and pulse of Fraser's heart, each gasp for air. He feels good, solid, more real than anything Ray's ever touched. He finds, to his surprise, that he wants this. That maybe he needs this. It scares the hell out of him.

Because cops, they don't do this. Can't do this. It's crazy. They're both fucking _nuts_. 

But neither of them is showing any signs of thinking straight anytime soon.

***

Ray's hands are sticky and he keeps rubbing them on his jeans, but they're sticky, too, and drying stiff. It's all … lights. Noise. Dief's nosing him, making these mournful little noises but he ain't sure why. Nothing's making sense.

"Kowalski." He turns and Welsh is there, and his big, bulldog face is creased with grief, and maybe anger, too. "Goddamn. Goddamn." The Lieutenant's hand is heavy on his shoulder, and Ray realizes suddenly that he's bawling like a baby, snot and tears making holy hell out of his vision. 

"Your call for backup was logged in at 10:10. Response time was almost thirty minutes, about 25 minutes longer than it should've took because we had cars in the area." The hand tightens; it might just leave bruises. "I will nail their asses to the wall, you'd better believe that, Kowalski." Ray nods, looks around, still not _getting_ it, waiting for the missing piece.

"Where's Frase?" he asks, his voice rough, like he's been partying. Like he's been shouting. Welsh's face softens, and he pulls Ray in, shakes him gently.

"Ray. He's … gone." And Ray, he's looking around, wondering where the hell Fraser's got to, but he can't see him anywhere, and Welsh makes this noise, this sort of muffled, choked sigh, and says. "Ray, he's dead. They pronounced him over the radio in the ambulance."

And then there's this _noise_ , this god awful _howl_ and Ray doesn't think it's Dief.

***

They're halfway through the door and Fraser's peeling Ray's coat off, and pushing off his shirt and he's kissing the edges of the dressing that's covering the crease, making choked little noises and Ray gets it, all of a sudden he gets it. Sees Frase watching the bullet go, him go down, sees all the what-ifs and might-have-beens that are going through his partner's head. He takes Fraser's face between his hands, pulls so they're face to face.

"Enough of that," he says, and kisses him. "That'll just make you crazy, and Lord knows you're crazy enough as it is." Gives another kiss, slow, wet and searching. "Way I see it, we can waste time thinking about what _might_ be, or we can just deal with what _is_."

Fraser's eyes are dark in the half-light, wet and glittering and for the first time his mouth is gentle, sweet, and then his forehead his pressed to Ray's and his breath is hot on Ray's face. "Oh, Ray," and his voice is breaking, broken, dropping to a whisper.

Ray hears "want" and "love" and "now", feels it on his skin, in his gut, the words hot and slick and sweet and it's damn good. More than he expected, everything he wants, even if he didn't know it until just now.

"I've got a bedroom," Ray says, and leads Fraser straight to it.

***

Ray wakes up, sees Fraser looking down on him, soft and open and drawing slow, soft circles down his belly. They share a smile, a kiss and everything is now. All they've got, all they need is now, this moment, this point in time.

And it's good. It's goddamned fantastic.

)0(

To Infinity.


End file.
